Issue link: https://read.dmtmag.com/i/315051
"I'm like, a minimaliste contrarié," says the interior designer and architect Joseph Di- rand. Sitting in the corner office of his perch on the sixth floor of a building in the 9th arrondisse- ment of Paris, a sunny panorama of clay chimneys and Mansard roofs spreading out through the win- dows before us, Dirand is smiling and upbeat, his lanky frame relaxed. Wearing a scruffy beard and a comfortable T-shirt, he appears anything but vexed, or challenged, or constrained, all of which the French word "contrarié" can signify. It's also debatable just how much of a mini- malist he is, though this has been Dirand's repu- tation since he hung out his shingle officially in 1999 upon graduating from the prestigious École Nationale Supérieure d'Architecture de Paris- Belleville. (He had actually completed a handful of commissions before then, including a shop for the designer Junko Shimada, a family friend.) Thanks to high-profile boutique and hotel projects like Rick Owens' somber London flagship and the severe Distrito Capital hotel in Mexico City, both unveiled in 2009, or the Habita hotel in Monterrey, opened the year before, Dirand has been lumped in with the white-box school of interior design. But as his work has since rolled out to greater and greater acclaim, especially in Paris, as well as further out in France, Asia and the Americas, it has become clear there is so much more to it than macho mon- umentalism or one-note, black-on-white drama. Though Dirand is certainly capable of stark high contrast, looking at his best-known projects from the last few years, there is a huge variety of moods, palettes, references and registers of emo- tion. This is why he has become the interiors man of the moment, earning the Designer of the Year award at last year's Maison & Objet, and enjoying office pop-ins from friends like Kanye West, seek- ing his aesthetic counsel. If minimalism is about stripping away, that isn't really Dirand's bag. His spaces are spare, but they're lush and adorned, and their decorative el- ements, while abbreviated, are impactful, and speak volumes. As much as Dirand has been in- spired by cleaner-than-clean architects like John Pawson, Tobia Scarpa and Mies van der Rohe, whose Barcelona Pavilion is a foundational struc- ture for his own aesthetic, Dirand's work is layered. Because of how it evokes distinct historical peri- ods with dramatic flair, "cinematic" is an adjective often used to describe what he does. It's certainly true of Monsieur Bleu, one of the Paris restaurant scene's openings of the year in 2013. A vast brasserie at the base of the Palais de Tokyo mu- seum, a landmark of Art Deco architecture, with soaring volumes dissected by soft rectangular lanterns, scalloped wall treatments and marble everywhere, it could very easily serve as a back- drop to a neo-noir seduction. It's also hard to tell on first glance what of the restaurant's décor was purpose-built and what was original to the space. That majestic marble trim, including handsome neoclassical black hearths and a series of slate bas-relief insets in naïf-Cubist style, strongly echo the Palais' proportions and façade. But they, like the lanterns and the brass-toned gold-leaf wall at the bar, and everything else inside, are the prod- ucts of Dirand's imagination—for this project, as he's often done before, he started from scratch. Similarly, the interiors for Balmain's Paris flagship, with its Haussmannian wainscoting and abundant moldings, were dreamed up in 2010 to evoke the 18th century, and the rue Saint-Honoré flagship for Chloé, whose curved brass mirrors, mustard velvet couches and vanity-lit fitting rooms, first seen in 2012, are a nod to the 1970s genesis of the brand. "I've had the opportunity to create a few places where you really don't know what I've done, or where the cursor goes, what was there before, and how did we transform it," Dirand says. "Actu- ally, in these places, there was nothing. While I love to compose with existing elements, I love to re-create this fake past too. The future is a rein- vention of the past, and this is pure creation, even if it doesn't feel like it. Things with references have more depth, even if you don't have the keys to get all of them," he adds. "They're stronger than some- thing designed just for the sake of form." Dirand says that as he has evolved, he im- poses less and less on a project, which is true of many a mature designer finding that he or she has less to prove. "When I was young, I was trying to design as an architect, but today it's not really my main concern. It's not about showing my talent, but creating spaces that are super-generous to life." To wit, last December, he unveiled his first collabora- tion, with India Mahdavi—L'Apogee hotel in Courchevel. With Mahdavi's penchant for contrast- ing bright colors, assertive textures and overall eclecticism, the two designers do not instantly spring to mind as the most intuitive combination. "You could imagine that everything black and white with me will be colorful with her, everything that's plain will be patterned, everything square will be round, everything marble will be soft," Dirand laughs, "but the architectural way that we compose space is very similar. She might be in color and me black and white but we have the same mechanism of organization and layout." And in fact there is not a clear delineation of who designed what, which was intentional. The rooms are more masculine than Mahdavi's light, pretty ones at Claridge's in London or her wild mix of patterns at Hotel Thoumieux in Paris, and the clean arches and dark stone in the bathrooms have Dirand's grand 1930s flair. "I've never collaborated like that before, but it helps that India and I have known each other since I was 18, and I would go to her for advice when I was a student and she was directing Christian Li- aigre's office," Dirand says. "Collaborating was dan- gerous but interesting. But we are two honest designers, and it wasn't going to be an ego fight." Attention to place is key in any conscious de- signer's work, and as much as Dirand was in- spired by the particularities of designing for the mountains—"with the brightness of the light and doing sport, you want a cocoon"—he's looking forward to taking on Miami Beach. Dirand is de- signing the interiors of the upcoming Surf Club Four Seasons Hotel & Private Residences, an ad- junct to the historic private club in Surfside in a building by Richard Meier that has just broken ground with a completion date of December 2015. "Miami is an incredible location, full of in- spiration, from Slim Aarons' pictures to the Art Deco period," he says. "It's about sexiness and happiness and glamour, through all its different eras," from the Spanish style right up to Meier's tower. Though the design is still under wraps, Di- rand confides, "We'll combine elements of His- panic classical architecture and 1970s-inspired furniture that we'll design, with lots of ceramic and a palette of green, yellow and blue. It'll be joyful and playful." Anything but contrarié. 140 CULTURED IF MINIMALISM IS ABOUT STRIPPING AWAY, THAT ISN'T REALLY DIRAND'S BAG.